


Leopard

by stardreamer



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crimes & Criminals, Gen, Psychopathology & Sociopathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 12:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardreamer/pseuds/stardreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megan has made an ugly discovery. Who's she gonna call?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leopard

"Thank you for meeting with me on such short notice." Special Agent Megan Reeves rose and stepped forward to greet the man who had just walked into the hotel lobby. 

"Your voicemail said it wasn't urgent. Your voice said otherwise." Special Agent Ian Edgerton shook her extended hand. "What's up – and why are we meeting here instead of in your office?" 

"This is unofficial." Megan gestured him toward the small conference room off the lobby; it contained a table, several chairs, and a whiteboard. She set the thick file folder under her arm down on the table and closed the door. "First I need to give you some background, and it's going to take a little time."

He shrugged gracefully and settled into a chair. "I'm all yours." 

Megan considered sitting also, but decided against it; the situation needed some formality. She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "A while back, we were investigating some war-protest bombings that looked like copycats of similar Vietnam-era bombings. There was a retired agent who came back to work with us on the case; his name is Tom Larson. He told us initially that he was sure one of his old bombing suspects, a man who'd disappeared after being accused, had become active again. It turned out he was wrong – the man he had named was dead, and wasn't the bomber in the old cases, either. But that's not the issue here; we identified and caught both of the actual perps, for the old bombings and the new ones. What's troubling is that during the course of the investigation, it came out that Larson had been an undercover infiltrator into his pet suspect's protest group during Vietnam. Worse, he was an _agent provocateur_ , whose specific assignment was to encourage members of the group to commit atrocities, in order to discredit the protest movement as a whole. Do you know much about the use of provocateurs?" 

"No more than everyone hears during training. They're not used much these days." 

"Well, what first caught my attention about Larson was something he said to Don. He said that you can't turn someone into a murderer or a terrorist just by talking to them; that people either have it in them or they don't." 

Edgerton raised an eyebrow. "That's not what I remember being told." 

"Me either, but Larson is very old-school. He saw what he was doing as flushing out terrorists to defend America. Now, you and I were taught that _anyone_ can have it in them to commit a murder, under the right circumstances. By definition, provocateurs are chosen and sent in because they are supposed to be very good at creating the right circumstances. Very good, in fact, at doing just what Larson claims isn't possible. It goes well beyond merely skirting close to entrapment the way that a deceptive information insertion does in an interrogation; it actually seeks to push people into taking an action _which they would otherwise not have taken_. That's just one of the reasons that the Bureau is hesitant about using them any more. 

"So, really, the job of provocateurs in such an instance is to create criminals. And they're masters at picking just the right word at just the right time, like little pinpricks, until their target loses control-"

"Like bullies, trying to goad the other guy into throwing the first punch," Edgerton interrupted. 

" _Exactly_ like bullies – except that they want the punch to be thrown at somebody else, and the goading is much more subtle. And when they're really good at what they do, it gives them a sense of having a lot of control over the people around them. What's another category of people we deal with who frequently do what they do because it gives them a strong sense of control over other people?" 

The abrupt change of subject appeared to catch him off-guard. Edgerton thought the question over for a few seconds; the eyebrow went up again. "Serial killers?" 

"Yes." Megan's voice was flat and hard. "Now bear with me here, because I have to make a digression. I read a mystery novel once in which the twist was that the villain was a guy who had figured out how to make _other_ people into murderers. He'd strike up an acquaintance with someone who was in a stressful life situation, and then just... pick at them, always under the guise of sympathy, until they lost it and killed the person who was stressing them. But no one could ever suspect _him_ of being the murderer! It was the perfect crime. It was..." 

Edgerton saw where she was headed. "It was like being an _agent provocateur_. Only with individuals instead of groups." 

"Precisely. And I wondered _why_ that story had come back into my head so strongly while I was working with Tom Larson. So I started a little quiet investigating of my own, on my own time. It's taken me a couple of years to come up with this." She opened up the folder and started laying out document files on the table, nine of them all told. "Take a look – and tell me whether or not I'm crazy." She sat down, her presentation over. 

Edgerton stood up and worked his way along the table. He took his time examining the documents. By the time he got to the third file, both eyebrows were arched. Midway through the seventh, he gave a long, low whistle. At the end of the ninth, he turned back to her with an expression of tightly-controlled rage. "You're not crazy." 

"Damn." Megan's lips tightened. "I wanted a reality check – but that's not the one I was hoping to hear. Ian, you know I've been with the Bureau a while. I've seen some pretty gross things at close range. It's been a long time since I've really had to fight to keep from throwing up. But this... this is _obscene_." 

She gestured at the stacks of documents. Each file related to a different bombing/murder case, a trial and conviction for some member of an anti-war protest group. And in each case, photos and other evidence showed the presence of Special Agent Thomas Larson in the group, prior to the date of the bombing. He wore a variety of names and disguises, but once you knew what you were looking for, his features were unmistakable. 

She struggled for control of her voice. "Every one of those bombings killed civilians. _Why?_ It would have been just as easy to push them into attacks that would only have damaged property. Seventeen innocent people died, half a dozen more were permanently disabled – and it was one of OUR GUYS who set it up!" 

"You know why as well as I do. It's much easier to get a conviction when you've got dead bodies than when you've just got a blown-up building." Edgerton paused. "Or at least, that would have been his rationale, that and the whole 'defending America' thing." 

"Yes, that's definitely part of his personal narrative. As long as he can convince himself that it's all for the good of his country, he doesn't have to think about how much _personal_ enjoyment he gets from it. But Ian, you haven't seen the worst of it." She stood up again and pulled one more stack of documents out of the file folder, handing it to him. Her hand was shaking. 

This case was much newer, only two years old, but followed a sickeningly familiar pattern. A bombing and two dead civilians, a trial and conviction. The members of the protest group were older, fiftysomethings rather than college students... and so was Thomas Larson, now officially retired from the FBI but having lost none of his very specialized skills. 

"A leopard doesn't change its spots. He's still doing it." Edgerton's voice was barely above a whisper. "He's gone rogue." 

"I _hope_ he's just rogue. I'm sure I could find more current cases if I dug around, but I just don't have the stomach for it. Ian, what can I do? When a hundred thousand dead Iraqi civilians are being brushed off as 'collateral damage' and three thousand dead American soldiers are 'you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs'... I have no idea who I can trust. Except you." 

"What about Don?" 

She shook her head. "I can't. Don had... some personal connections to that other case. I could _trust_ him, but this would tear him apart. And besides, I don't want to risk anyone else getting involved if it goes higher." 

"What do you want?" 

"You have to ask? I want it STOPPED! And I don't care how." She froze, jolted by what she'd just said. "No, that's wrong. I _do_ care how, but I don't think that taking this through normal channels will work; I can't believe that this guy isn't being protected, still, today. Maybe even directed." She paused. Edgerton's expression had darkened. "Then I thought about taking it public – but I don't know how high up it goes. I could blow up my own career for nothing." They stared at each other, and Megan drew a deep breath. "If there's no other way to do this, it might be that I just found the right set of circumstances to turn _me_ into a murderer, and I really, really hope it's not the only way." 

"You wouldn't be the first; rogues with connections are a spook terror. Sorry, worked with a few too many other agencies in other countries lately." The words hung in the air for a moment. "But it may not come to that; I have some unofficial contacts of my own who are good at handling unpleasant unofficial situations discreetly. At the very least, they'll probably know who's connected to what, and where to whisper in the right ear... if there is one. Will you trust me with that file?" 

"I'm trusting you with my reputation, my career, and my life; what's a file against that?" She carefully stacked the cases back into chronological order and handed him the folder. Then a thought made her chuckle. 

"What's funny?" 

"Remember that book? There was another surprise twist at the end of it. Because there was no other way to stop the villain, the _detective_ had to kill him." 

That surprised a laugh out of Edgerton as well. He shook his head. "Y'know, I never know what to expect when I get a call from you guys – but at least I know it won't be boring." With the file folder tucked beneath his arm, he opened the door and walked away.

**Author's Note:**

> This is revenge-fic, pure and simple. I _hated_ that character, and then I got a plot-bunny about what else could have been going on with him. AU because of later series developments. Oh, and if you recognize the novel I'm talking about, please don't identify it in the comments!


End file.
